Sky rushed out of the dojo barefoot, and Hawk ran after her. One look at her stricken face, the tears that poured down her cheeks, and he went after her without a moment's hesitation, leaving in the middle of the warm up routine. The front door almost slammed him on the face as he tried to catch up with her.

"Sky, wait—!"

He got the door open, the bell chimed and the sunshine blinded him for a few seconds. And then—

He saw how Sky's legs gave in.

She had managed to get across the small parking space and almost to her car, but not quite enough. Unable to help, Hawk watched how she fell to the ground hard, crumpled down, her small shape in white gi making a sharp contrast with the black asphalt of the parking lot.

He was by her side in a heartbeat, the sun-burnt asphalt hot under his bare soles, but he didn't even notice. As he fell on his knees next to her, his heart climbed to his throat - Sky clasped her chest with both hands, she was struggling to draw in a breath, and with a jolt Hawk realized what was happening.

Shit, shit, shit—

He hadn't seen her have one of her PTSD episodes, not since the one time at the dojo, but she had told him she still got them from time to time.

And not once had he asked what he should do if it ever happened again.

"Sky, hey, it's me–" he grabbed her shoulders, but her eyes were wild - it was as if she didn't even see him.

He couldn't take it, he couldn't bear the thought that she was reliving the worst moment of her life, that she was being shot again, that she was watching her best friend die, and he was here, unable to do anything about it–

He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into his lap. He was kneeling on the ground, not giving a shit if the dirt stained his gi, because nothing was important except Sky, nothing but helping her when she was so clearly in pain. He held her shaking form against his chest tighter, his hand gently caressing her shoulder, her hair, as he murmured soft words to her ear.

"It's okay, it's not real–" he kept saying. "It's not real, Sky. I'm here, I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you–"

Sky's body was convulsing, her legs trembling. She fought to draw in a breath, a strangled cry escaped her lips, and all the time Hawk held her, his heartbeat next to hers.

He heard footsteps, people gathering around them, but he didn't turn to look.

"It's not real," he whispered, cupping the back of her head. "It's not real. Snap out of it."

"Eli–" a soft whisper. Sky's fingers gripped his shoulders, she pressed her small face against his chest, tears soaking his gi.

"Yeah, I'm here," he breathed, squeezing her closer to his beating heart. "I'm here. I love you."

And then she was crying, drawing in deep breaths and sobbing them out, her body softening against his, and Hawk's heart was breaking. It was breaking into thousands of tiny shrapnels that cut into his soul and made him bleed.

"Hey, what happened?" a soft voice asked, and Hawk turned to glance over his shoulder, to see Aisha hovering right behind him. Miguel was not far behind. "Is she okay? Did she get a panic attack or something?"

Hawk swallowed, unable to form a reply.

By the door of the dojo, loomed the black-clad shape of Sensei Lawrence, his brows furrowed, his hands on loose fists on his sides. To Hawk's great relief he noticed that the rest of the students were still inside, probably because Sensei had stopped their attempts of getting out.

"She... needs to go home," Hawk said, briefly meeting Aisha's worried gaze. "She's in no shape to drive, though–"

"I have a license," Aisha replied instantly. "Just... let me get her things and put on shoes."

Hawk gave a shaky nod, turned his attention back to Sky. It was only now that he noticed she had scraped her knee when falling down and her white gi was stained with blood. He thought of pulling up the sleeve to take a look at the wound, but then decided not to - Sky was still clinging to him, trembling like a scared rabbit, and he didn't dare to let go of her.

As Aisha rushed back into the dojo, Sensei Lawrence slowly walked towards them, and crouched down by their side. The look on his face was unreadable, Hawk had no idea what was going through his mind, not that he even cared.

"You okay, Ginger?" Sensei asked with a silent, raspy voice.

"No," Sky breathed, then shook her head. Her voice so weak Hawk barely heard her as she hid her face on his shoulder. "I'm nothing but a loser."

————————————————————————————————————————————————

A half an hour later, Sky was lying on her bed, still wearing the white gi, but the scrape in her knee now cleaned and patched up with a band-aid. Under a pink blanket, curled up on her side like a child, she looked small, younger than she was. She had rested her head on Hawk's lap and he was caressing her curls, his fingers gently brushing the strands that had escaped her french braid.

Not a word had left her lips since the one sentence of being a loser she'd managed to breath to Sensei in front of the dojo, and Hawk was worried sick.

He felt like his stomach was climbing up his throat, the nausea brought the taste of bile on his lips.

He had never seen Sky like this.

That one time when he had accidentally hit her on the shoulder wound, she had bounced back rather quickly, but now—-

She looked like something had died in her, and it twisted and tortured Hawk so that he could barely breathe.

Mr. O'Brian was sitting on the bed too, his hand gently on Sky's shoulder, massaging soothing circles on her upper back. The room was silent, as if the time itself had stopped. From somewhere far away Hawk heard Miguel and Aisha's voices - from downstairs, he realized - where Mr. O'Brian had said they could have a snack in the kitchen while they waited.

Waited for what, Hawk wasn't quite sure. He just knew he couldn't leave Sky, not when she was like this.

"What happened?" Sky's dad asked silently, but Sky didn't answer. She was clutching the blanket in her fingers, staring at the opposite wall with blank, glass-like eyes.

Mr. O'Brian lifted his eyes to Hawk, raising a brow in a silent question.

"I think she tried to tell Sensei she didn't want to compete in the All Valley tournament," Hawk said. "I don't know what happened, I wasn't with her."

Which, of course, made this his fault.

He was the one who had pushed Sky into telling Sensei Lawrence. And he hadn't even been there to support her. He had left her alone, knowing that Sky was scared and Sensei was pissed.

Stupid, I'm so fucking stupid!

A bitter lump formed in his throat.

He had been so full of reckless joy this afternoon, after what had happened with Sky in the kitchen - the kissing, the fucking handjob, the bliss that had left him walking on clouds - that he hadn't stopped to think—

He had utterly failed her, and he was sure Mr. O'Brian knew that too. He was surprised he still hadn't been yelled at or kicked out of here.

"Sky, I'm gonna give you something, okay? So that you can rest." Mr. O'Brian said silently, turning his eyes back at his daughter. The calm in which he handled the situation both impressed and horrified Hawk - it told him clearly that this wasn't the first time he was taking care of Sky like this. He looked like this was something he'd done dozens and dozens of times.

"Okay." Sky breathed.

"I'll be right back," her dad replied and stood up giving one gentle pat on her shoulder.

Hawk watched him walk out of the room, then heard his footsteps down the hall. After a couple of minutes, he returned with a small, white plastic bottle and a glass of water.

Hawk watched silently as he poured some pills on his palm, tiny, white, round pills, gave one to Sky and returned the rest to the container, which he then stuffed in his pocket. With shaky fingers Sky took the offered medicine, popped it into her mouth and flushed it down with water.

"What was that?" Hawk asked, a strange weight on his chest. He hadn't been aware that Sky was on medication, and somehow it felt like a betrayal that she hadn't told him.

But then again, she hadn't really told him anything about her PTSD, except that she was seeing a therapist and that she didn't want to talk about it.

Now he felt like he should've asked more. Because how was he supposed to help her if he didn't know even the basics of what they were against?

Too busy thinking about getting laid.

I'm a fucking idiot.

Like, did I even try listening to her?

Sky rested her tired head back on his thigh, he laid his hand back on her hair, continued his smoothing caresses, running his fingers gently over her temple, trying to repel the bitter taste that had fallen on his lips.

"Just something to help her sleep," Mr. O'Brian said. "Come, Eli. Let's give her some peace and quiet."

The last thing Hawk wanted to do was to leave. It felt like cutting out his heart. He had already failed her once today, and that was one time too much.

"I should stay," he said, glancing downwards to Sky's face, her closed eyes. "She'd want me to stay."

"She's gonna sleep," Mr. O'Brian said softly. "What she needs now is rest, believe me."

"But—"

"It's okay, Eli." Sky muttered, her words slightly melting together - maybe because of whatever had been in that pill.

"You sure?"

A silent mutter, which Hawk supposed meant yes.

He still felt like he was ripping out his heart, but without further arguments he got up, gently placing a pillow under Sky's head where his thigh had been.

"I love you, Sky," He said, crouching down by the bed. He pulled the blanket over her shoulder, placed a soft kiss on her brow, another one on her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears on his lips. At this point he didn't even care that her dad stood right beside him and heard every word he said. "I love you, and I'm gonna be there for you, always."

At that Sky stirred lightly, opened her eyes and looked at Hawk. Her gaze was clouded, her eyes only half open.

"I love you too," She breathed.

Hawk placed another kiss on her forehead, breathed in her scent of vanilla and tears.

"You can tell them," Sky said softly.

"Tell whom?"

"Sensei, Aisha... Miguel." a short silence, her eyes closed. "The Cobras. And Demetri. You can tell them everything."

Hawk swallowed, but the persistent lump in his throat just wouldn't move. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." the words were silent, he barely heard her. "They should know."

"Sky–" he began, but Mr. O'Brian interrupted him, placing a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Let her sleep," he said.

This time Hawk didn't argue. Sky was already falling asleep, her body was now soft and relaxed, the trembling tension in her shoulders, in the fingers that had gripped the blanket, was easing. Hawk resisted the urge to touch her once more time, to trail the delicate line of her jaw with his fingertips.

He followed Sky's dad out of the room, but as soon as they'd gotten in the hallway and had closed the door behind them, Mr. O'Brian turned to face Hawk. His face was unreadable, his green eyes that were exactly like Sky's resembled mirrors that only reflected Hawk's own wide-eyed image.

"Eli," he began, and for a short moment Hawk was afraid that he'd start scolding him - he'd been waiting for that to happen for some time now.

But instead, Mr. O'Brian said: "I guess I should thank you."

"Ummm, what?" Hawk stuttered. "Why are you thanking me?"

"For taking care of Sky, for bringing her home," he replied. He took off his glasses, cleaned them on the hem of his T-shirt, one of those shirts he had dozens of - with a Latin phrase printed on the front. This one said 'Omnes una manet nox'.

Hawk didn't know how to reply, his eyes evaded Mr. O'Brian's gaze, darted to the floor, to the wall, back to the text in his shirt.

One night awaits us all.

Suddenly that felt like a bad omen, and Hawk drew his eyes off the text, wishing he'd never read it at all.

"I may have been too hard on you," Mr. O'Brian continued, either unaware of Hawk's unease, or simply not caring about it (Hawk suspected the latter). "You do seem to genuinely care about Sky."

Hawk's glance briefly met Mr. O'Brian's before fleeing again to the wall behind his shoulder.

"I love her," he rasped. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for her."

Mr. O'Brian let out a sigh.

"Ah. That kind of love can be dangerous, Eli," he said silently. "It has left cities burnt down to ashes."

Hawk couldn't think of a fitting reply - hadn't he once said that he'd burn down the world if Sky asked? And yet, the silent, tired voice on which Mr. O'Brian had said it, made something tighten in Hawk's chest.

"You should go home now," the older man continued, the strange, hollow look in his eyes fleeting, being replaced by the smile Hawk had seen so many times, a smile that he now knew was a kind of a mask. It hid the shadows that rippled under the calm surface. "Look at you, still in your karate clothes, parading barefeet in my home."

"Yeah, okay—"

He started for the stairs, but then hesitated, turned back.

"Mr. O'Brian—"

He had already turned towards Sky's room, his fingers rested on the door handle, but he turned to face Hawk. "Yes?"

"Is... is Sky going to be alright?"

Mr. O'Brian gave a sigh, leaned on the wall and stuffed his fine, long fingered librarian's hands into his pockets.

"Well, I don't know," he said. "Today, yes, she's going to feel better in a couple of hours, but..."

"Hawk's throat tightened. "But what?"

"In the long term - who knows?" he shrugged. "These things take time - that's what the doctors say."

Hawks chest tightened with worry, fear settled in his stomach like a cold stone. "But it's been almost a year, right? I mean, shouldn't it be getting better—"

"Oh, it has gotten better," Mr. O'Brian said with a dark, dry tone. "Believe me. The first months were..." he shrugged, his voice drifted off, and Hawk didn't ask him to finish that sentence.

"But yes, things have been getting better." Mr. O'Brian repeated after a small silence. "Especially since we moved here, and well - since the two of you started dating. I might as well admit it - Sky's been a lot happier since she met you."

Hawk's eyes widened, his throat bobbed. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Still doesn't mean you'll be invited for sleepovers. Time for you to go home, kid."

Hawk gave a sharp nod, and turned to leave. He walked down the stairs, his bare feet silent and soft on the carpet, his brow furrowed in deep thought. Sky's tiny, black cat Napoleon greeted him with a dissatisfied meow, as he passed without stopping to scratch him behind the ear, but Hawk barely noticed the small feline.

I have to do something.

Something,

Anything.

I have to fix this somehow—

He stepped into the kitchen, where Miguel and Aisha sat at the kitchen table, huge glasses of chocolate milk in front of them. They instantly fell silent and raised their worried eyes to Hawk's face.

"Is Sky okay?" Aisha asked. "You know what happened to her?"

"I called my mom," Miguel said. "She said she can come and pick us up. And she can check on Sky too, if her dad wants to."

Hawk's glance darted from Miguel's dark eyes to Aisha's, then to the wall, the window, the trees outside, their leaves so breathtakingly fresh and green. And then back at his friends - his friends - no, they were more like a brother and a sister to him than that.

He cleared his throat, straightened his back.

"Guys, we need to talk."

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